


Anyone Would Drown

by Charientist



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexuality, Drowning, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nudity, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charientist/pseuds/Charientist
Summary: A bitter young asexual man meets a siren on the beach.
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Original Siren Character & Original Asexual Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2020





	Anyone Would Drown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiced_chai_nebula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiced_chai_nebula/gifts).



> Title is from "Liar, Liar" by A Fine Frenzy
> 
> Congratulations, recip! You've received one of Birthday Bash's uncommon serious gifts! Hopefully you still enjoy.

Vance stood on the beach with his eyes closed, listening to the surf and focusing on the breeze tugging at the folds of his clothes. 

He timed his breath to the crash of the waves, trying to cool down from another vicious, pointless argument. His heart had almost settled back into a normal rhythm when he heard a splash, and he looked up to see a woman in the ocean. 

She was crouched down close to the shore, only her head breaking the waves. This late at night the waves were too dark to see beneath. 

What he could see of her was picturesque. Her features were sharp and perfect, almost too perfect, like she’d stepped out of a magazine-ready photoshop image. Bright eyes under dark lashes, high cheekbones, strong jaw and narrow chin, full lips. Gazing up at him from under curtains of dark hair like the promise of a shared secret. 

“This is a private beach, you know,” he told her, but it was his parents’ beach, and he was in no position to scold anyone for offending them. 

She gave a wry smile like she understood the joke. The amusement lit her face, moonlight reflecting in her eyes. 

Her perfect smile widened, lips parting to show the first hint of pearl-white teeth. 

She stood. 

She was naked, and her whole body was as beautiful and unblemished as her face. She was aesthetically perfect. 

Unnerving. 

Vance had visited a few nude beaches over the years. The tourists there might be nervous or awkward, but locals were always comfortable, accustomed to the convention and at ease in their skin. 

This woman was at ease in her skin, but there was nothing casual about her nudity. Her gaze was too focused, her stance too evocative, every angle showing to best advantage. 

She beckoned. 

Vance huffed a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m flattered, but I’m not interested. Really not interested.” 

She’d probably assume he was gay. Most did, and with strangers it was often less of a hassle to let them. Better than what tended to happen when they thought he was in denial. Or insulting them. Or a prude. 

It was one grievance among many, forming a caustic miasma of resentment that had settled into resignation long ago. He tried not to dwell on the bitterness, but it was hard to feel anything else when he had to visit his parents. 

The woman standing in the waves opened her mouth. 

I̞͇̟̼̱̻͇ ͖̹̹c̹̪̳a͕͚͕͈̺͉͎ṋ̹̱ ̗͕̼̥g̪̜͖͎͕̠̣iv̬͕͕̭̗̣̞e̻̳̮͉͍̗͙ ̤̜̝͚͍̘̗y̹̝̜̪̞o̺̠͙̲̫̙ͅu̝̞̪̫̭ ̠t͎̣̱͉͍h̺i͇̻s̺̩̘̗̞.̦̯̩̗̞̳ W̞̣̲arm̱͈͔̥̦th͇ ͕̭̗̮̞̜͔ac̭̖͚̞̻͎̜ce͇̻͈p̦t̩̮̱̟an͉̱̪c̺͖̖̺͉̤ͅe̥͎ ̱̞͚͇ͅlo̟͉͈̜̯͙v̺̘̘͍̜͉e̗̼̩͈̦̺̜ ͉w̦̯i̯̬͍th ̱̞̜̜̱n͕͍o̩̟̳̖̺̦ ̬̬̼̱̱c̣̣̱̣͍̳̭o̞n̼ḍ͓̩̙̫i̳͇͖̭ͅt̻̟i̝͔̬̦o͚̬ns͉̳̫.̖̗ 

She didn’t speak. She sang, but not with any words. 

He heard the meaning in the melody, _felt_ it as if the song carried her message straight to his mind. 

He stared at her, this woman standing naked in the ocean, on his parents’ beach, promising the impossible in an impossible way. 

“How?” he whispered. 

She beckoned again. 

He found himself standing at the edge of the water without deciding to step forward. He froze, bewildered and unnerved. Turned to look at where he’d been. 

She sang. 

The meaning was louder, clearer, this close. He turned back to listen. 

F̶̻̹̩a̺m̨͈̰i͚͓̻l̸y̯̗͚͚̼.̵ ̭̞Ṭ͍̪̦͍h̩̮͎̘̳͢e̻̝̦͎̟̣ ̶̻̲̭̪͓w̹̙͍a̶͔̰̯̳y҉ ̗̙̠̬͟t̘̙̭h̲̦͔͘ḙ͟y̨͓͎̗̺ ̙͈̘̪̻s̵h̸͍̟o͎̥u͈͉ļ̗̬d͖̫͖̘̠ ̣̲͍̞b̪̟͘e̠̺̤͉͖͔͟.̧̰̙̺̘̯͖ ̨̝͙̣̝̥̯T̫̙̰̼̩̗h̤̱̙͓̥͘e͎̩̝̣͓̤͉ ̴͔̬ͅw̲̠ạ̱y̪ y̤ơ̯͈͎̗̻̪̗u̵̮̼̝̪̱ ͎̺̹h̸͕̺̱͈̞̮a̯̱̪̜̙̪v͏e̶̠̰̼̙ ̱̙̯̭̻͇a̦̙̰͙͕̩l̸̙͍ẉ̠ͅa͚̺̕ys҉̠ ̖̻͓w͔͔a͎̯̹͖̬͜n̡͇͍̻̯̫̭t̰͓͕̻e̟d̺̰.҉̘͇͚̗̪ N̟̫̘̺̣͍̻͢e̘̞e̛͚̺̜͓̣̪̠d̹̳͔͎̫͙eͅd̯͙̯̻̪̻.̫ ̙ͅD͎͇͎͈̦e̦̣̙̞͖̭̼s̴̗̰̱e̛͇̹̱͕͓r͖̦̖v͓̙̬̝̼̹e̸̠̯̥̤͕͖d͓͇̯̜.͙ 

He reached out, and his fingertips brushed hers. 

H͔͇o҉͙̝ͅͅͅm̝̪̗͍̥̘̥ę͍̝.̘̯ ̴̞̻̤͍̮A̹ͅ ͔̜̠̟͓̮͉p͞l͕a̖̬͖̥͚ͅc͢e̘͇̟ ̨̲͔͚̩̯͖t̬͚̹o҉̖̜̣̠ r̢͇ͅe͔̜ͅs҉t͕͔. ̴͎͎̪̦̼̹͉T͈̹̩͓o ̜̪͕̱̻̫̟͞b̴͚e͓̰ͅlo̲͔̦̰n̪̻g̱̤̜.̦̠̩̲ 

He stepped forward. Dropped his hand into her palm, startling a little to find her skin as cold as the waves now lapping at his clothed calves. 

She clasped his hand between both of hers and smiled again, warmer now, even as the song continued. 

Ev̷͇͚̼e̢͎̫̬͔͍r̛̩͕̗̟̫̘y̙͕̳͉̜̤̖t̡̙̟̦h͏in҉̟̯̠g͍̤̰̱̜ ̬̞̗͇͚̣y̞̞̹̰̗͚͘o̱̜̩͚u̩̝̹̯̝̕ ̜̼̪͠h͈̕a̡̞̥̳v̙͓e̷͍̦̫̬̼̥ ̷̦̱̖͈͕̖ͅe̦̘v͇̘͔͉̘er ̲̣̝̰̘͘wan̛̼̲̬͓̝ͅͅt͍͈̳̟e̷̙d̗,̵̲̳̦ ̺͖ḙ̜ver ̳a̼͉͓͙̘̟̰c̥̖̯ḩ͈̮̖̯̠e̮͈̣ͅd̩̻̗͉̳̳͘ ̨̰̜̰̖͚͉͍fo̗̗r̗̼͎͕̘̹ ͓̳̩̼͈̝ͅḏ̮̘̙̺͕ͅo̴̠͖̠̪̜̮̼ẉ͎͈͚̯͚͉͢ṉ̤͎͚ͅ ̛͖̳̟̮tọ̦̬̲͓ ̳y͕̞͍͙̠̣͔ọ̹͇̳̯̯̳u͖̩ͅr̻͓̤̖͇͢ ̛̱̟̥͔b̻͔͖̳̹̬͔o̷͍̦̘n҉̖̬̘e̖̫̣̫s҉̜͈̹͔̣,̡̲̩͇̹̫ ͕͖͕̪t̸͉͇̪͇͈̫̖o͖͉̠ ̦͍͉͉̤̠t̸̙̹ḫ̩͔̬͚̟e̗ͅ ̜̼͞ḩͅo͟l͇l̯̻̤̥̺̪͎o̪̻̱̕w̜̻̮͖̟ ̻͇b͟e̩͚͓͖̯̤̘ṯ̜̰̖͢wee̮̻̪̥n̨̩͍̼̠ͅ ̺yo̳̤̰u̧̪r̯͕͚̞͈̯͙ ̗l̜̱u̬̗̜n̶͚̣̪̲̭g̩͔̖͜s.҉͍̠ 

Her clammy hands tightened over his. His opened his eyes to see a question shining back in her own. 

T͓͉̭̞͈̫̿͛ͬ̀͊̕r̼̙̹͇̳̗̒̂͛u͊̾̽̄͛s̸̹̮t̡͇͖̖͗ͮ̿̓ͧ̈ ̨̝̳̍ͥm͔̞̜͈̮̫̽̒̌ͬ͟e̴̦̟ͮ́?͙͛̍̆ 

She stepped into the surf. 

He followed. 


End file.
